


A Tale of Two Kitties

by meandminniemcg



Series: Kitties Verse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dudley has a magical child, Fluff and Angst, House Elves, Luna has a plan, M/M, Magically contaminated Malfoy Manor, Narcissa wants to remarry, Nonbinary Character, There was only one room at the cattery, Two very clever cats, cat fic, desi!Harry, honestly if those cats were wizards they would have been in Ravenclaw with Luna
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-04-06 14:00:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19064107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meandminniemcg/pseuds/meandminniemcg
Summary: There was only one room at the cattery.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my awesome betas @Etalice and @avreate.
> 
> The characters belong to JKR and Scholastic/Bloomsbury, no copyright infringement is intended.

Luna took a sip from her strawberry pumpkin lemonade.

“Harry, I need a favour. You quit your job at the Aurors, I think you could help me a little.”

It was a rare occurrence when Luna’s requests were so direct and straightforward. For a brief second, Harry considered declining because he was a mess already, even without whatever Luna wanted him to do, but the way she looked at him made it hard not to comply.

“Yes, if I’m able to help,” he answered.

“Please, I need you to adopt this cat, that has been living temporarily at the Quibbler’s office building. My new editor-in-chief is allergic to cats, so it’s been difficult. I believe this cat would be especially good for you. You’ve had so many wrackspurts in the last year, and he’s good at keeping them at bay.”

Harry wanted to say no, but he couldn’t muster the mental strength to do so. If anyone had told him during his Hogwarts years, that he would adopt a cat, he would have assumed they were a case for the Janus Thickey Ward. Well, he did grow fond of Crookshanks in the end, but he assumed that Crookshanks was an exception to the rule and that most cats were like Mrs. Figgs’ cats, a noisy lot eating stinking food.

Maybe despite the fact the cat would probably meow at the top of their voice at any time and eat stinky fish and liver, they might bring him a little bit of comfort, as all his friends were now paired off with him the only single in the group, especially since he had no way of dating anyone. After all, nobody wanted _Harry_ ; they all wanted the Boy Who Lived Twice, the hero to solve all their problems and be a perfect lover.

In reality, Harry suffered from PTSD so severely he couldn’t function in the Aurors except as a public face, which he couldn’t do regardless since he hated giving speeches. And the reality of his legendary sexual experience consisted only of expert wanking and the knowledge that he was actually gay. He had some failed attempts at sex with Ginny on his list of sexual experiences before they had both admitted to themselves and each other “I love you, but your parts do nothing for me.” And he had an experience with a mutual handjob in a Muggle club loo, although it had just turned out that his one-off was a glamoured Zacharias Smith who had outed him in the Daily Prophet.

While the act itself had been good, it had scared him off pulling Muggles and convinced him that he was doomed to never have a significant other. A cat would at least be someone with a pulse and a less subservient attitude than Kreacher’s to live in his house. If he was lucky, the cat might even enjoy cuddling.

“Y-yes. I’ll at least give it a try and see if the cat and I like to live together.” Luna hugged him, thanked him and disappeared through the Floo to bring the cat and all the things needed to look after them.

  


**

  
Draco brewed his tea as he would brew a potion, with the same attention and focus. Making the right blend of Dittany Oolong and Shrivelfig Assam was a high art his mother had taught him. To be honest, if he thought he could get customers, he might consider opening a tea shop. Maybe he should do that somewhere on the Continent, like in France or Italy, where the name Malfoy was rather unknown.

A knock at the windowsill drew his attention. A graceful tawny owl with a dreamcatcher around his neck stood on the windowsill and awaited his beckoning.

“Come. Show me what you have for me, Morpheus.” The owl gave him a sceptical look, and he remembered that Luna always called him Marv. But then, Morpheus glided over to the water tap and stretched out his foot for Draco to take the message.

Draco gave Morpheus an owl treat, but the bird stayed put. That was unusual for Luna’s owls. Draco furrowed his brows and read.

> Dear Draco,
> 
> Last time we had tea together, you told me the Manor felt so empty without your mother in it, and I have found a way to ease that loneliness at least a little. We both know that you can really solve the problem of your loneliness completely yourself, and while I have an idea of what you could do to fight the infestation of solitari that built their nest around you, I know you are not ready to do that and would rather deal with it much later on, if I even as much as told you about it. But I have at least a four-legged companion for you who needs a new home. A beautiful black cat with green eyes and white paws. He belonged to Theophanu Macmillan before, so he knows not to disturb a potions master. After her sudden demise from wearing a cursed necklace, her cousin Ernie tried to take the cat, but Ernie’s dog and the cat didn’t get along. You would do Ernie and me a great favour, and it could help you a lot, too.
> 
> The cat is an excellent breed with a good character, only he doesn’t like the name Theophanu gave him, it would be your task to give him a more appropriate name. Marv will be waiting for an answer as to when I can introduce the cat to you.
> 
> Yours, Luna

Draco remembered Theophanu Macmillan vaguely. She had been in sixth year and the Hufflepuff prefect during his first year and then took a Potions apprenticeship at Beauxbatons, as he found out during his own apprenticeship under Jean Beauvoir. She had developed an improvement to the Wolfsbane Potion, that could be injected into the body every three months with a charm that reminded the patient of the next due injection. It was a great breakthrough in the treatment of lycanthropy.

Being asked to adopt the cat of such a renowned potions mistress felt like a great honour, even though he had never thought of keeping any pet. His father’s peafowl had been horrible, and Draco had been glad when he had found a buyer for them.

In an atypical bout of impulsiveness, he penned an answer, asking Luna to come over in the evening. His mind was made up that if the cat wasn’t the most awful creature or repulsed by Draco, he would be his cat. After all, he did long for some living being to cuddle with once in a while.

  


**

  
Luna returned with a white cat in her arms and placed him on Harry’s lap. To his amazement, the cat just rolled up and purred, looking rather like a white fluffball. The shade of white looked just like Malfoy’s hair. But why did a cat make him think of Malfoy? Malfoy would hex him and not roll up on his lap and purr. Also, why would they allow Malfoy to become an Animagus?

He scolded himself in his thoughts for his paranoia. He might cast an Animagum Revelio later, but definitely not in Luna’s presence. That would be rude. He did, however, look into her eyes, and was greatly relieved that there was no sign of her being under the Imperius. Damn, Harry, if Muggles see Mother Theresa or Elvis Presley on a cornflake, and it’s by coincidence, then a resemblance between a cat and Malfoy can be a coincidence, too.

“Were you even listening, Harry?” Since Luna had gotten serious about her relationship with Ginny, she had also become more insistent on people listening.

“Sorry.”

“He’s an Exotic Longhair/Kneazle mix. You have to brush his hair every day, and don’t give him the cheap cat food. His breed can get diabetes from it. Wait, I have all you need for the first two weeks with me.”

She Accioed her handwoven bag and took a cat tower, a cat bed, a self-cleaning litter box, a tray with two bowls and five cartons of different cat food sachets from it. Finally, she brought out a brush. “Remember, he needs to be brushed every single day, needs his water changed twice a day, and you need to take him to the cat healer twice a year. But the cat healer will owl you if you allow her to.”

Surprisingly soon, Luna left, telling him she had an appointment with a relative in the evening.

Harry cast an Animagum Revelio at the cat, earning him an indignant look, but also the knowledge that his new cat was no Animagus, just obviously a clever cat.

“So, what could be your name? Luna said you never accepted any of the names the Quibbler employees would give you. You seem quite posh with your blond hair and your attitude. I think I’ll call you Meowfoy. Because you remind me of a very posh, very attractive-looking classmate from my school days. I hope you’re not such a git as he always was.”

  


**

  
Although Luna was the kind of person who rarely cast a Tempus, she seemed to have a rather good sense of timing. As usual, Draco was surprised how precisely on time she arrived at the Manor. And he was grateful that she visited him at all, having been imprisoned in the dungeons during the war. “You changed the magic of every single room after your father’s imprisonment. And I am only in the Winter Garden, which was least affected because the dittany your mother grew here actively unravelled dark magic.” She would always tell him when he brought up his gratitude.

“Say hello to your new cat.” She held up a travel basket. Inside, a black cat was rolled up; he was rather small and seemed to be fast asleep.

“I believe, he’ll wake up soon. And he’s a very brave little cat. Before he came to Theophanu, he spent his first six months in the house of someone who didn’t treat him well. He still has a scar on his forehead from this time. It’s amazing how he overcomes his trauma. I believe he can help you overcome yours.” She brought out a rattling cat toy, and the little black cat stirred.

Draco had a hard time keeping his composure when the cat looked at him. The eyes were a similar emerald tone as Potter’s, and the scar, though it had a different shape than Potter’s was also reminiscent of the Golden Boy’s.

The cat stretched and got up gracefully, ambled towards him and sniffed at his outstretched hand, then rubbed his cheek against Draco’s fingers. Then he circled around Draco’s legs. When Draco sat down, the cat immediately climbed onto his lap. “I’ll call you Pawter,” Draco whispered in his ear. Pawter purred loudly.


	2. Cat-hartic Family Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This time, I'm uploading fast, but I guess, you'll have to wait a week or so for the third chapter, as I have only just started writing it. ;-)

Six months later, Harry was on his way through Selfridges, when he noticed a small girl who looked about 5 years old, crying. Her dark coiled hair was pulled back in braids.

“Hey, where’s your mom and dad?”

The girl just shrugged. Something about her features seemed familiar to him, although he couldn’t place it. 

He silently cast a charm that could guide the girl’s closest family member or guardian to her.

  
“Mary, thank god, I was so worried.” Harry didn’t even need to look around. He would always have recognized Dudley’s voice and his Surrey accent. The girl flung herself into Dudley’s arms.

He was just about to cast a Notice-me-not when Dudley did notice him. “Harry! What a surprise. Can I invite you for a cup of coffee?”

“Er, I wanted to buy a present for my goddaughter, but of course. We can have a cup of coffee and catch up.” Had Mary not been there, he would have declined, but the girl made him curious. He distinctly remembered Uncle Vernon’s racist slurs, but Dudley had obviously a child with a black mother, maybe he had overcome some of his prejudices.

“Mary, this is your Uncle Harry,” Dudley declared, stroking his daughter’s cheek.

“Uncle Harry? I have an uncle here, not in Ghana? We have relatives here?” Mary smiled at Harry, and suddenly flowers appeared in the air.

Dudley blinked, then gaped at the flowers with an open mouth. Then, as he noticed that other people were staring at the flowers, he raised his voice. “My cousin is an illusionist. But there’s no time for a show now.” Finally, he whispered: “I thought you weren’t allowed to do magic in public?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but this wasn’t _my_ magic,” Harry whispered back, then regretted saying it. What if Dudley was going to love his daughter less for having magic?

“You mean Mary…?” Dudley raised his eyebrows and stroked Mary’s hair.

Harry sighed with relief. “Yes, this looks quite like accidental magic.”

Dudley laughed. “That explains how she always gets the biscuits no matter how well her mom and I hide them.”

“Yep, that would be likely,” Harry replied.

“If I were still talking to mom and dad this would be the reason to cut the contact. But I haven’t talked to them since I started dating Mary’s mother. I practically live without a family apart from Precious and our two daughters. You can imagine why.” Dudley gave him a sad smile.

Harry nodded.

“When we moved to Yorkshire and I attended Upper sixth class there, they bullied me because of being overweight and having a Surrey accent. I realized how you must have felt all those years. I regret how I treated you. I don’t know if asking you for forgiveness is asking too much.” Dudley looked at his feet.

Harry extended his hand. “We can’t change the past, but you have a magical daughter and a chance to make things better for her. I forgive you on condition that you do your best for her. I can help you with magic-related questions.”

“Uncle Harry, does that mean you’ll visit us and stay for a few days? My friends’ uncles, aunts and grandparents visit and stay for a few days. Mom says Ghana is too far away, and my Ghanaian uncles and aunties don’t have enough money to visit. Please, Uncle Harry. My birthday is next week.” Mary pleaded and grabbed Harry’s hand. She looked at him with puppy dog eyes.

“You’ll have to ask your parents if they want me to visit.” Harry smiled at the girl. He didn’t think Dudley would say yes.

“Harry, I would like you to visit us, but I’d understand if you didn’t want to.” He turned to Mary. “Most grownups find it hard to make time at such short notice.”

“I could, I’m self-employed. And I could help you make your place safe for a kid with accidental magic. Actually, that’s my line of profession. I’m an Interior designer and magical functionality specialist. And between the apartment I’m working on now and the next one I have a gap of four days. Enough to childproof a four-bedroom apartment. If you want. You can talk to your wife and think about it. I won’t charge for my work; you and Mary are family.” Harry would have been adamant about offering this if it had been for Dudley alone, but Mary deserved more loving family, and also, Harry could keep an eye on Dudley and his wife if he were present in Mary’s life.

“I think I’d like to accept but we live in Liverpool.” Dudley shrugged.

Harry gave him a reassuring smile. “That’s no problem if you have a sofa or a mattress where I can sleep.”

“We have an empty guest room as our second daughter Abbie is too small to want a room of her own. Do you have a family of your own, too?” Dudley looked shy, as he asked.

“I’m single, godfather of two godchildren, and I have a very posh cat. I often have to look after my godson, because his parents passed away and his grandmother is often in hospital. Teddy has a higher priority than dating for me, even though he doesn’t live with me often.”

Dudley nodded in understanding. 

  
The end of the day lead to Mary skipping cheerfully alongside Dudley as they strolled to the local cafe to discuss the upcoming renovations.

  
Harry was grateful to Luna for having given him the address of a boarding cattery in Catford, which she had taken her four cats to when need arose, too.

  


**

  


> Dear Draco,
> 
>   
>  How are you, darling? I haven’t heard from you for a while now? And I worry about you, it’s not good to be all alone.
> 
> Maybe you could visit us in Grasse? You haven’t been to France in a long time. And there is someone I want to introduce to you. I accept that you don’t want to live in France, but I would like to hear your opinion about Constantine, the man who started courting me. He is very different from your father, he is patient, a humorous storyteller and a good listener. Originally, he is from Wales, but he has lived in France since his teenage years.
> 
> Please, if it is somehow possible, visit me as soon as possible and spend a few days here; I won’t accept his courtship if you don’t get along with him.
> 
> Take good care of yourself and answer me soon.
> 
> Be well, my Draco,
> 
> Yours, Mother.

Draco read the letter again. He had taken a vacation for the next week. But this time, there was more to organize. Where could he leave Pawter? Pansy’s crup had whined a lot the last time they had visited him. He had been afraid of Pawter. And Blaise was in Canada for a modeling job. Greg had enough to do with his bakery, he wouldn’t have time to care for a cat. And Theo? You wouldn’t let Theo care for a cactus, let alone a cat that had a very Gryffindor-esque personality. Draco finally decided to ask Luna if she could recommend a good cattery. After all, Luna had four cats and she travelled once in a while.

  
“I never thought you would need to ask.” Luna’s face in the Floo had an expression Draco had never seen. It took him a while to conclude that it was her flabbergasted look. “I was sure you were familiar with Catford Cat and Kneazle cattery?”

“No? Should I?” Draco felt confused.

“It’s run by your former housemate from your year, Mick Bulstrode.”

Draco felt confused. “Mick? I only know Millicent. And she’s no longer in contact with any of us.”

“That’s their deadname. And I think you can show them that you are fine with them being nonbinary. I rely on you.” She put her hand on Draco’s shoulder.

Trust Luna to spring the news on you that your former class- and housemate came out as nonbinary and you are to re-integrate them into your friend group when you need a cattery.


	3. There was only one room at the cattery

Harry Apparated to Catford with Meowfoy asleep in his travel basket that had been charmed with a steadying charm. After an unfortunate experience, Harry had come to the realisation that being jostled in the basket would most likely make the cat puke his stomach empty and feel free to make known of their complaints in loud meows. Meowfoy was extremely prone to complaining, like when Harry had brought in a new rich maroon armchair, he meowed noisily for three days and avoided the chair for two weeks, until Harry finally transfigured the armchair’s colour to his liking: a velvety sage green.

But apart from being a drama queen about colours (which also pertained to Harry’s clothes, it also meant that he had never been as well-dressed as since adopting Meowfoy), the cat was endearingly well-behaved. He only ever scratched at the sofa corner with the Thread-Go-Back charm, had his energy outbreaks only in his room, greeted him every time he came home happily and enjoyed his brushing sessions and the occasional belly rub. He seemed to have a sixth sense for Harry’s emotions and was good at grounding him if Harry was about to spiral and providing comfort and ease when he felt sad.

His attitude towards visitors depended on how they made Harry feel. The only visitors allowed to touch Meowfoy were Andromeda, Teddy, Luna, and surprisingly, Neville. But he would sit in Harry’s lap and act comfortable around Hermione and the Weasleys. With Oliver Wood visiting, Meowfoy had a major hissing fit lasting until the Quidditch player left. And Meowfoy watched Dean and Seamus critically, not allowing them to go into the kitchen or drink alcohol.

Harry couldn’t really complain about Meowfoy preventing those two from getting drunk, they both could get obnoxious under the influence of firewhiskey. After his last New Year's party, Harry had to replace two rugs, one because of a burnt-in hole and the other because even Molly’s best cleaning charms couldn’t completely remove an unknown vomit stain.

  
The cattery looked like a semi-detached house, and in their brochure, they had said, that wizarding space made sure that the cats would each have a big room with all the comfort a cat could want. House elves were provided in the vicinity to brush the cats’ fur, and a check at Hermione’s list of elf-friendly workspace index had also revealed the cattery to have a ten star rating, in the category of small quaint business.

Another perk was that they promised to send daily reports to his spellphone. It sounded good.

He rang the doorbell, and after a minute the door opened for him, with a melodic chime of Mozart’s Serenade No. 13. As he stepped in, he saw a chubby, androgynous person with short rainbow-coloured hair sitting at a reception desk.

“Good morning,” he greeted, taking in the ambience of the room and the person’s looks. He had a vague idea of having seen them before, at Hogwarts, and he could see the resemblance of the face in his mind with the image of a Slytherin tie.

“Ah, good morning, Mr. Potter, I see that you Apparated in.” Their voice was soft, with a slight Wizarding Southampton accent.

“Yeah, my cat doesn’t like the Floo.” He remembered who the person was. “Bulstrode? Millicent Bulstrode?”

“That’s my deadname; today I go by Mick. And my pronoun is they.” They gave Harry a scrutinizing look.

Just as he was about to apologise, a young girl who appeared to just have graduated out of Hogwarts appeared through a door at the back of the room. “Cousin Mick, is Harry Potter bringing Mr. Malfoy’s cat? I didn’t know they were friends.”

“Malfoy’s cat? Bree, did you book Malfoy into the last room?” They gave her a stern look. “Because I booked Harry Potter in.”

“Y-yes, I did.” Bree looked at the floor and fidgeted.

Harry felt sorry for Bree. “If my cat can get along with another cat, I consent to have him share his room with them. Mistakes happen. It’s no problem. Just make sure you brush him every day.”

“Okay, thank you so much for your patience, Potter.” Mick gave him a grateful smile.

“Please, call me Harry.”

“We need to fill in the check-in form. What’s your cat’s name?”

“Meowf- his name is Meow.” That was a near save. How could he tell a Slytherin his cat’s full name?

  


**

  
Draco Flooed to the cattery clutching Pawter to his chest. As he stepped out of the hearth, he noticed a very well-known messy head of hair leaving through the door. Potter. So, that obnoxiously handsome git who lived to dress in the most asinine clothes but still haunt Draco’s wet dreams had a cat? He always would have assumed that Potter was more likely to be a dog person. And hadn’t the Gryffindor been with a dog on Platform 9 ¾ when they were in… was it fifth year?

“Draco, welcome to Catford Cat and Kneazle Boarding Cattery.” The voice was lower than what he remembered Millicent to sound like, but their manner of speaking had not changed as much so that he recognized it immediately.

“Hello, - Mick. How are you? We all haven’t heard from you in years. It’s good to see you again.” He smiled at them. In his school years, he would have considered their fashion choice awfully crass, but he had matured enough to understand that their parents’ over-rigid clothes rules might motivate someone to dress and hairstyle like an impersonation of the Pride flag. And all the colours were in shades that suited Mick’s complexion well. He may be a man to cringe at someone's bad fashion choices, but his definition of a bad fashion choice was nowadays less shaped by convention than by the question whether a particular cut, shade, pattern or fabric were unflattering to the wearer. In that sense, Mick dressed louder than Draco would ever think of dressing if he wanted to play a clown, but every stitch and every hair was chosen to be still flattering Mick’s complexion and body shape.

“I’m happy,I can finally be myself, and work with cats and kneazles. And I’m looking forward to getting married.” Mick looked for a second as if they wondered whether they had said too much.

“Do I know the lucky witch or wizard?” Draco asked while sitting down at the table.

“As-Astoria Greengrass.” That was why Mick had seemed so worried. They thought that he might have a problem with being rejected by both Greengrass sisters. In reality, it had been a relief. It had felt incestuous to be expected to be married to one of his third cousins. Lucius Malfoy’s standard of not condoning inbreeding was marrying his son to a third cousin instead of a first or second.

Draco smiled at Mick. “Congratulations. I’m glad she marries the one she loves. I hope I’ll find someone to love one day, too.”

“You are not angry?” Mick smiled at him as if they had just been given 500 galleons in a gift wrap.

“I believe we both deserve better than to be trapped in a compulsory marriage. Tell Astoria, that I was glad when she refused to marry me. The only reason I didn’t refuse was that I didn’t have the courage. I’m glad she had it. I only feel free to be myself now that Father is deceased.” He gave them a smile when they didn’t flinch at his words.

“Storey will be happy to hear it. And I guess you can look forward to receiving a wedding invitation soon. Would you like to get your cat settled to rest after their journey today? I'm sure when they wake up, they'll want to explore the grounds a bit" 

“His name is Paw.” Remembering how the Slytherins had teased him in eighth year about his Potter obsession, he didn’t want to reveal Pawter’s full name. “He likes salmon and tuna and needs some activities. He hates being bored.”

“I hope it isn’t an inconvenience, would you mind Paw sharing his room with another cat if they get along well? We have to put two cats into the same room due to some unforeseeable circumstances at the moment.” Mick gave him a convincing look.

He knew that his father would insist on not allowing his pet to share a room, but he didn’t want to be like his father. “Only if they get along well. Paw was saved from horrible people when he was small. I don’t want him to ever suffer again.”

“You have grown to be a good man.”


	4. Purrfect Surprises

Harry’s Spellphone chimed with a soft ring indicating the arrival of a message.

**"Cattery: Meow has found a friend. He enjoys cuddling with his roommate."** A moving picture showed Meowfoy lying on a sunny spot on the ground with a black cat. The golden sunlight cast intricate patterns across them as they were licking each other’s fur. 

“Uncle Harry, which one is your cat? I love cats but Mum says we can only have one when Abbie is bigger.” Mary and her friend Lucy jumped with excitement.

“The white cat is mine. His name is Meowfoy. I don’t know the black cat’s name. They put Meowfoy into the room with them at the cattery.” Harry explained.

“The owner of that other cat must become a friend of yours, Uncle Harry. It seems Meowfoy wants to marry the other cat.” Mary said sagely.

Harry chuckled. He had grown very fond of Mary in the last two days. Dudley and Precious were very welcoming, and Harry saw that Precious had a very good influence on his cousin. 

“But you don’t know if the cat is a girl. What if that’s a boy, too?” Lucy asked.

“Don’t be stupid. Then they are gay and can get married. Mum and Dad’s friend Clarissa is going to get married to a woman. Two women can get married and two men can get married. Just like a man and a woman. And I will be the flower girl at their wedding. I’m getting a beautiful dress for it.” Mary sang as she grinned smugly at the thought of the dress. 

Harry felt relieved. He had seen in the last three days that he didn’t have to worry about the fact that Mary was a witch as her father had been so loving and accommodating. Dudley had developed into a relative worth having, Harry realised with a sense of amazement. Precious was a woman with an extremely apt name. And if he could feel safe to come out to them, he would definitely invite them to stay at Grimmauld Place next time they were traveling to London.

  


**

  
“May I ask you for your mother’s hand in marriage?” Dr. Conrad Howell, renowned healer and his mother’s boyfriend, had atypically donned very formal dress robes this afternoon and looked at Draco, as if the young man were the Wizengamot deciding about his future fate.

“Of course, you can marry her. I can see that you make her happy. Did you put on those dress robes to ask me? On every picture Mother has shown me, you wear denims, even when you took her to the opera.” Draco smiled at the older man. He saw that this goofy, but highly intelligent healer made his mother happy. She radiated with bliss nowadays, as she had never done before Father’s death.

“Well, yes, how do other wizards manage to wear them all the time? I feel like I’m wrapped up in theatre curtains.” As if to prove his point, he pulled at the fabric of his robe collar.

“Merlin, I never thought I’d say such a thing in my life, but change your clothes and never try dress robes again. You look so uncomfortable it itches me when I look at you. I would recommend a nice Muggle suit for your wedding.”

“Thank Merlin. I bought these just to make the right impression on you. Your mother said, that you have a perfect sense of style and like when people are well-dressed.” His eyes crinkled in a similar way reminiscent of Professor Lupin’s eyes when a student had known more than expected.

“You remind me of one of my former teachers, a very good man. I didn’t appreciate him in third year, but he was the best DADA teacher I ever had. His name was Lupin.”

Conrad paused and stared at Draco. Then he spoke softly. “Remus Lupin was my cousin. But I hardly knew him. Many things I know about him now, I have learned from H. Granger’s book ‘Remus Lupin, Marauder and activist’, have you read it? After Remus was bitten, his parents isolated themselves. And then, we moved to France.” Conrad looked sad. “After he was bitten, I only met him once, I was 17, and he was 14, and it was obvious that he and his best friend Sirius fancied each other very much. It’s funny how I fell in love with the cousin of my cousin’s companion in life.”

Draco’s spellphone chimed at this moment.

“Feel free to check your message, it might be important.” Conrad gave him a smile.

**“Paw has found a friend. They like cuddling in the sun.”**

“Lucky Pawter,” Draco mumbled under his breath. “I wish I had someone to cuddle with once in a while. But no, Father made sure I would never get to be loved.”

“Draco, I know, we haven’t known each other for long, but if you allow me to give you some advice. Maybe it’s more so living in Malfoy Manor than the mark on your arm that causes your problems with dating. You ought to move out of Malfoy Manor for at least a minimum of two years and have it magically decontaminated. When your mother came here, she was just as downcast as you are. If I imagine having to live among so much dark magic, I think I would suffer from heartache and depression, too. I know that you have proved to many people already that you no longer stand for all that bullshit your father believed in. You were underage and raised by your father when you took that mark.”

“I can afford either the decontamination or the rent of an apartment with a potions lab. You know, with the things I brew for a living, I need more lab safety than for brewing Pepperup. My vault isn’t quite as large these days.” Draco said admittedly, lowering his head.

“Don’t give up. I don’t need divination to see that things are not staying like this indefinitely. And maybe you will find an opportunity to move out temporarily.” Conrad smiled at him. 

“I agree,” Mother’s voice from behind his back startled Draco. “We have wasted too much precious time of our lives caring about houses and names instead of our mental health. Give your life priority over the Malfoy name or the Manor. If you get a chance, move, find someone, find a boyfriend, Draco, even if he’s a Muggle.”

“Mother, since when…” Draco’s voice sounded like a wounded animal. He had never told his mother that he was gay.

“I knew you weren’t straight when all your letters in first year were pages after pages about Harry Potter. You could have been bisexual then, but, darling, when there was never a single letter that dedicated more than an obligatory phrase to a girl or woman’s attractivity, that was a clear sign. I’ve probably known it before you did. I never told your father, and he died thinking you would marry Astoria Greengrass, but I’m glad you’ll be free to marry whom you want.” She smiled softly in her endearing manner that Draco recognised as she tucked a small lock of hair behind his ears.

Draco didn’t have words to reply; he just hugged his mother, feeling closer to happy than he had ever done since his early years at Hogwarts.


	5. Back to the Cattery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mx (pronounced Misc): a nonbinary equivalent to Mr., Mrs., Ms.

Mick sat at their reception table, on one of the two comfortable office chairs. On the chair beside them, Nippy, the head of the house elf team sat, shifting from side to side. She was used to sitting on office chairs along with Mick by now, but it still made her nervous when they had to talk at the reception on a day a cat would be picked up; and this time, there were two cat owners going to come in and see her. Nippy held the sleeve of her blouse, that she had sprayed with catnip to her nose. If cats loved the scent, maybe it would attract another elf, too, as she had explained to Mick this morning.

“Nippy, calm down. Harry Potter is known to be a good friend of house elves, and Draco Malfoy not only had the Malfoy elves trained in elf-healthcare, but also donated his town house in London and half his post-reparations fortune to grant house elves access to healthcare. They will be pleased to see you here with me.” Mick assured, trying to calm down the elf.

“Nippy is not afraid of Mr. Harry Potter or Mr. Draco Malfoy; Nippy is glad to be able to take care of the cats of the best friend of Hermione Granger and the founder of the Dobby Foundation. They is both very great people; but they is known to be not liking each other and their cats…”

Mick chuckled. “Their cats might demand that they face the hippogriff and talk to each other. After all, throughout Hogwarts they have picked fights with each other and then stared at each other’s arses. Anyone less stubborn than those two would have stopped fighting and started snogging before seventh year. If their cats force them to be in contact, that will be a well-deserved intervention.”

“Mx Mick Bulstrode is being very accurate. Nippy has seen Mr. Draco Malfoy staring at Mr. Harry Potter and then Mr. Draco Malfoy smelled strongly of mating hormones.” Nippy smiled at Mick and her fidgeting looked more of excitement than nervousness now. When half an hour the Floo chimed, and Draco stepped through, Nippy seemed rather smug. “Hello, Mick, how are you?” Draco leaned over the table and exchanged air kisses with Mick.

“Fine, Storey told me to make sure I invite you and, if you have, your significant other to our next pub night on Friday at the G&S.” The G&S was a LGBTQ+ friendly pub in Little Compton Street, owned by the surprisingly successful business partners Marcus Flint and Seamus Finnegan, whose husbands’ professions were reflected in the interior; while most people would guess that Oliver’s sport accessories and Dean’s art would clash inside a pub, an anonymous interior architect managed to create a fusion that was comfortable and stylish. Yet rumour had it that Marcus and Seamus had to take an Unbreakable Vow not to reveal the genius’s identity to anyone. What everyone did know was that G&S stood for Godric and Salazar, and that it was considered the best LGBTQ+ pub in wizarding Britain.

“Sorry, no significant other in sight.” Draco said bleakly. He turned to Nippy. “Good afternoon, nice to meet one of the elves who took care of Paw.”

Nippy blushed and smiled. “Mr. Draco Malfoy, Nippy is being happy to meet you and happy to have taken care of Paw. He is being such a lovely cat.”

“Thank you, Nippy. Also, Mick, thank you for sending me the pictures of Paw. It helped me a lot to get daily updates about him.” Draco told his former classmate.

“Nippy took the picture. She is a talented photographer. I just posted it to you.”

At that moment, the door opened, and Harry came in.

“Malfoy?”

“Good afternoon to you, too, Potter.” Draco drawled.

“Er, good afternoon, Mick, Malfoy, and to you as well,” he turned to Nippy.

“Honestly, you should be old enough to know you have to greet people without them reminding you.” Draco complained while his gaze followed the line of Harry’s body.

“Did I have any reason to expect your pointy face here? It’s reason enough to be startled.”

Mick glared at both of them. “Behave yourselves, both of you. You don’t want to distress your cats, do you?”

“What does this have to do with Meow?” Harry ‘s voice rose by an octave.

“Your cats have become close friends. I ran tests with what cats might harmonize, and apart from your cats, all other combinations of cats put into one room for a night would have been a disaster. So, Paw and Meow had to share a room for one night; and then I wanted to move one of them into the room that became free, but to no avail. I guess, you both will have to find a way to help your cats stay in touch.” Mick felt more nervous than they had thought they would be. The way both men glared at them, Mick was not sure if one of them would hex them or have an outburst of accidental magic. Why did they have to…

“If you is ready to be following Nippy, Meow and Paw are being waiting for Mister Harry Potter and Mister Draco Malfoy.” Nippy broke the loud silence.

“Meow! What an asinine name! If you had a dog, would you call them Woof? And a pig Grunt?” Draco lashed out.

“Says the man who calls his cat Paw, his horse Hoof, and his snake Limbless!” Harry deadpanned, as the three people and the house elf made their way through the long corridor.

Nippy opened a cerulean blue door, and behind it, the two cats were dozing on a large pillow by a warm sunny window. Their bodies looked like a perfect, two-coloured heart. Draco approached the cats, and carefully placed a hand on Paw’s back. Paw grumbled, then started lazily licking Meow’s fur as if to show Draco that he was very much not impressed with Draco’s behaviour of waking him.

As Meow began purring loudly, Mick watched Harry. The man’s body language revealed coiled tension between annoyance while simultaneously unable to help himself with gazing across at Draco.

Meanwhile, Nippy conjured two chairs and summoned some special cat treats. “If Mr. Draco Malfoy and Mr. Harry Potter want they can be sitting down and be trying to offer Meow and Paw some treats. Cats is being easily reconciled with something delicious after their humans have been away for a while.”

The cats took their time to show any interest in the treats after their rouse, and when they did, they didn’t go alone to their respective owners, but ambled side by side first to Harry, then to Draco, and both cats together tasted both treats, evading the hands that wanted to scoop them up.

They finally did weave around their owners’ but when Meow weaved around Harry, Paw followed, and then Meow followed Paw around Draco’s legs.

“Fucking Hippogriffshit!” Draco finally exclaimed. “How am I going to get home with my cat if he doesn’t want to tell your cat goodbye!”

Harry mumbled something like Accio Meowth, and a hissing Meow flew into his arms. “Sorry, darling, but you know, Teddy is coming over and having dinner with us.”

Meow struck out, but without using his claws. Then he snuggled into Harry’s arms, obviously understanding the meaning of ‘Teddy.’

Meanwhile Draco had scooped up Paw into his arms gently, and made his way to the Floo, shouting “Bye, Mick, Potter. Mick, I’ll firecall you.”

As soon as Draco and Paw had disappeared in the Floo, Meow released a heartbroken yowl.

“Harry, if I can give you some advice, arrange playdates for Meow and Paw with Draco.” Mick said placatingly.

“I have to Apparate. I’ll give you a call, and the Galleons…” Harry rushed to the door.

“I have seen to it, they are in our account already.”

“Bye, Mick. Nippy.”

“Bye, it was a pleasure to have Meow here.”

As soon as the door was closed, Nippy, turned to Mick. “When they is releasing so many mating hormones, why is they arguing, why is they separating their cats?”

Mick shrugged. “That’s how they have always been. I just hope their cats are stubborn enough for those two stubborn hippogriff-heads. But I know once they realise that the other one is capable of caring about them just as profoundly as they know they might come to care, it is lasting and forever. I believe once they accept that fact we won’t need to worry about them so much anymore.”


	6. Caterwauling

Draco nearly lost it with Pawter during the next 24 hours. The cat sat stubbornly beside the chimney they had flooed in through, and yowled mournfully, and, what was worse, it only increased in pitch throughout the rest of the day. When Pansy came over in the evening, she had to say things repeatedly because it was difficult to be heard over Pawter’s complaints.

“Is he sick?” Pansy demanded. “My animal healer takes emergencies also on Saturdays and Sundays.”

Draco scowled. “He’s not sick. But Bulstrode had to put him into one room with Potter’s Meow. Yes, the Boy Who Lived to be Asinine really named his cat after the sound it makes.” “Millicent? You really saw her? How is she?” Pansy picked the only part that interested her out of Draco’s ranting.

“It’s no longer Millicent. They go by Mick and They nowadays. And if I weren’t so incensed at them presently, I’d say that they looked happier than ever, but they really took the biscuit with that.” Draco ranted while trying to calm Pawter.

Pansy laughed. “Oh, Draco! Isn’t it time to overcome that schoolyard rivalry attitude? It could be good for you to open up and accept that Potter still plays an important role in your life. You name your beloved cat after him, and then you claim you hate him!”

“But he hates me. He called me pointy.” Draco cringed at how whiny his own voice sounded.

“And how many names have you called him in your life just to get his attention? We all saw you stare at his arse every single time he walked away. Both of you are still the same kind of emotionally constipated idiots. I bet you said something annoyingly prickly before he called you pointy. Don’t deny it, I know you, Draco.” Pansy gave him her sternest look.

“Paaaaansy, you’re supposed to be on my side.” Draco exclaimed with a pout.

“Sorry, Draco, this time Pawter knows better on what is good for you and himself.” Pansy patted his arm reassuringly.

“What do you expect me to do? Go to Potter and tell him, we’ve never been friends, I was a Death Eater, but you’re also my wank fantasy, let’s shag, our cats want us to be friends, yes?” Draco said sardonically.

“Have you ever considered that Potter might be attracted to you, too?” Pansy took a small bite from her petit four.

“Yeah, and bread is made from thin air.” Pansy knew Draco well enough to instantly recognise the hackles he was raising at the prospect of turning the conversation around. 

“Gamp’s law doesn’t say that a Potter might not be attracted to a Malfoy. And it’s a very well-known fact that you are one of the most handsome wizards, Merlin knows, even I notice that although I’m not attracted to blokes at all.” Pansy’s voice sounded exasperated.

“But perfect Potter can’t love a Death Eater.” He whispered in a low voice as he scratched violently at his Dark Mark. A droplet of blood bled through his white button-up shirt sleeve. “Merlin’s balls!”

  


***

  
“Uncle Harry, what’s wrong with Meowfoy? Is he sick?” Teddy looked at Harry with big curious eyes, his head sporting turquoise cat ears.

Before Harry had figured out how to explain it to his godson, Meowfoy gave another heartbreaking yowl and stared at the door as if he could hypnotize it to open by itself.

“He’s healthy, but unfortunately he’s become friends with the cat of someone who’s always hated me. And I don’t know how to help him. I’m considering asking that man to sell his cat to me.” Harry said in a tired voice.

“You can’t do that, Uncle Harry, the other cat loves their human, too. You know, Mikey Dawlish from my nursery school group said he didn’t like me because my hair is blue and he doesn’t like blue, and I asked him what his favourite colour was, and he said green. I made my hair green for a whoooole storytime for him, and then for a few shorter times when he asked me to, and now we are friends. He even got to like blue. Maybe if you talk to them, they will be your friend, too. And now, in second form, Mikey is sitting next to me too.” Teddy explained with excitement.

“Harry, who’s the owner of the cat?” Andromeda asked gently across the room, while pouring herself another steaming cup of Earl Grey. “If I have any influence, I’ll talk to them.”

“It’s Malfoy. And it didn’t make him hate me less when I saved him from the Fiendfyre or when I spoke for him at his trial. How could anything possibly help if saving his life and keeping him out of Azkaban didn’t?” Harry muttered with a frown.

“He may insult you to your face, but when he talks to me,” Andromeda said in a pensive tone, “he talks about you only with words of praise. If you ask me he likes you alright, whether platonically or…”

A deep husky voice came from a portrait on the wall. “He’s not a Gryffindor like you and me, Harry. His pureblood education wouldn’t let him show you that you mean something to him if he believes he can’t win your real friendship. He thinks you just pity him, and a Malfoy accepts no pity. The Black family used to think so as well, at least those who remained on the tapestry did.”

“Hello, Cousin Sirius, how are you? And how is Remus? Is he sleeping after the Full?” Andromeda turned to Sirius’ portrait, seeing that the place beside him at the painted table was empty.

“Yes. Bloody hell! I never would have thought that he has to transform as a portrait, too. The only comforting thing is that it doesn’t hurt him anymore. Although we are capable of feeling things.” Sirius replied with a wink, before taking a deep breath with glittering eyes. Harry suppressed an exasperated groan at the memory of the activities he had caught Sirius and Remus in the middle of before he had provided them a bedroom picture in a closed box.

“I love you dearly, Sirius, but please keep your bragging of the joys Remus and you get up to behind closed doors to yourself. It’s not fair to a man whose choice lies between being featured on the scandal page in the Prophet and resorting to his hand. For all the shite that happened in both your lives, the one thing you both were incredibly lucky with was the fortune to have found each other at Hogwarts. And remember, Teddy is in the room.” Harry knew all too well that sometimes even as a portrait Sirius had no filter for the words he said, and that the only exciting thing happening for him was transfiguring and testing various sex toys with Remus.

“Harry, you know what, Meowfoy reminds me of James when he was in detention at a Hogsmeade weekend just after getting together with Lily. All this whinging and pining. Even Binns let James go that time.” Sirius’ grinned, like there was a very interesting prank story behind it.

But Harry wasn’t ready for prank stories. “What are you insinuating? Should I give my cat away to Malfoy of all people?”

“Surely not. But maybe you should invite Malfoy’s cat on a playdate. You said yourself that he turned his back on his father’s ways and tries to do good now. It sounds very much like he needs some Marauderish influence in his life. And you are the closest thing to a Marauder outside a portrait now.” That was typical of Sirius, wanting to give everybody who wished to break free from their blood purist background, a group of Marauders of their own.

“Okay, perhaps I’ll think of how to invite them over,” Harry promised, but at the same time, his stomach made a strange flip at the mere thought. How could he handle inviting the man who looked and sounded so much like his favourite wank fantasy but hated Harry with every fiber of his being?

But Harry knew that Sirius would not let him off the hook about it, if Meowfoy didn’t calm down by himself, Sirius would surely insist.


	7. Playing Cat and Cat 1

After a sleepless night, Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. He dressed as neatly as he could, pulled his hair in a ponytail and headed to the Floo. “Malfoy Manor.”

The head of a house elf showed after a few seconds, and Harry heard desperate yowling in the background. “What can Dempy do for you, Mr. Harry Potter, sir?”

“Hello, Dempy, for our future conversations, you can leave the sir, I don’t like all those formal things. I need to talk to Mr. Malfoy about a play date for our cats. Could you please inform him?”

The elf Apparated away, and after a minute, Malfoy knelt down on the hearth pillow. “Potter.” His voice sounded weary and resigned.

“Good morning, Malfoy. Did Paw yowl all night, too? Did he eat?” Harry just hoped Malfoy would be too tired to lash out.

“They don’t calm down, do they?” Malfoy didn’t look Harry in the eyes, but Harry considered it already a little success that Malfoy didn’t insult him.

“Guess we must face the hippogriff and arrange for a playdate.” Harry mumbled barely loud enough in resignation.

“I won’t invite your cat to the Manor. I don’t trust you to have trained him well.” There it was. Of fucking course Malfoy would lash out sooner or later.

“Godric’s sake, come to mine with Paw. We don’t bite. Merlin, one could think you mistake us for nifflers. Have you had breakfast yet? I’d like Meow to calm down as soon as possible.”

“No, I haven’t. But can you make breakfast? The saviour doing cooking charms?” Malfoy had a peculiar reminiscent glint in his eyes that was so familiar from their school days. But Harry didn’t want to rise to the bait, not this time, Meowfoy needed his companion.

“I mostly cook the Muggle way, but so far everyone who tasted it has liked my breakfasts. Do you want to give it a try or are you chicken?.” The ball was in Malfoy’s court. _Merlin, Meowfoy, look what you make me do!_

“Now?”

“No, the next millennium! Of course now.”

An earsplitting meow later, Malfoy looked up into Harry’s eyes and mumbled “Okay.” He turned, scooped up Paw into his arms and stepped through.

Paw quickly jumped from Malfoy’s arms and greeted Meowfoy with a cat kiss and loud purrs. The two cats cuddled up where they were and started grooming each other.

“Malfoy, care to follow me to the kitchen, I know, it’s not where most purebloods spend their time, but you could have a cuppa already while I’m cooking breakfast.” Harry exclaimed as he led the way.

“You’d be surprised. I cook my breakfast two days a week when my elves have their days off. Although there is no breakfast that compares to Dempy’s.” Malfoy smirked with challenge in his eyes as if he expected the breakfast to be hideous. 

_I’ll give your Dempy a run for his money, you bet your life I won’t give up until having convinced you that I can cook the best breakfast. Wait, why am I competitive about making breakfast for Malfoy? Have I gone bonkers?_

“I hope you have some proper tea, not just that stuff in teabags.”

_Wanker! Thank Merlin, that Minerva gives me tea for every birthday and Christmas, because firewhiskey doesn’t go well with my meds._

“What does your royal highness want? Darjeeling first flush? Assam? Earl Grey? Oolong? Pu Erh? Matcha? Chai latte?” Harry snarked. It felt good.

“Let me see the Assam and the Earl Grey.” Harry handed Draco the tins with the teas. “Miracles happen. You do have some decent tea. Which one do you prefer?”

“I like the Earl Grey better, but I usually prefer Chai latte.” He thought of drinking Chai latte with Sirius and hearing his godfather tell him stories about his parents and grandparents. Sirius had also taught him the three Indian recipes he had learned from Harry’s grandfather, Fleamont.

“I’ll have Earl Grey,” Malfoy said. “It’s my mother’s favourite.”

“How is your mother?” Harry asked while assembling the ingredients for his berries and chocolate pancakes he usually made for special occasions. He remembered that Malfoy always used to have a sweet tooth.

“Thank you, she’s fine, going to remarry next year.” Malfoy’s face seemed to soften at the mention of his mother.

“How do you feel about it?”

“I’m glad Mother gets to have a love match in her life now. With my father, it was a match due to potions and magical artifacts.” Harry was good at reading Malfoy’s expression and believed that he was happy for his mother, but there was a tremendous sense of melancholy behind it. Was Malfoy sad with his life?

When Malfoy didn’t say more, Harry turned to concentrate on the pancakes. They had to be the best pancakes Malfoy had ever eaten, not that Harry hoped to hear that from the blond, but nothing and nobody made him more ambitious than Malfoy, he wanted to impress him; he had learned from sixth year that not being acknowledged by Malfoy was unbearable.

Maybe Malfoy would watch him, as he was cooking but Harry knew that he was good at cooking, all his friends praised his culinary skills.

With a flick of his wand, he started his magic-compatible CD player, and Freddie Mercury’s voice filled the room, he lowered the volume, but when Malfoy didn’t speak or do anything else encouraging a conversation, he hummed along under his breath to Delilah, and moved to the music while flipping the pancakes.

The next time he looked over to Malfoy, the blond was resting his cheek on his arms and sleeping, his hair becoming undone by the sleeping position. _Fuck! He looks cute when he sleeps. And I haven’t felt as alive as today in years. What’s wrong with me? What’s fucking wrong with me, that’s MALFOY. He hates me. He has always hated me._

Harry noticed a chocolate stain on his shirt. He placed his pancake under a stasis, conjured his Patronus, told it to notify him when Malfoy woke up and went upstairs to his bedroom. Originally, he just wanted to change his shirt, but after second thoughts, he took a cold shower, because for some reason he felt hot and bothered. It wouldn’t do to let Malfoy know. When he came back down in another white dress shirt, Malfoy was still sleeping, drooling slightly on his arm. Harry regretted not having wanked in the shower.

  
“Malfoy, food is ready,” _Merlin’s pants, I didn’t mean to say it in that soft tone! It sounds like I want to wake him with a kiss, but I can’t want to do that. It’s Malfoy! No matter how angelic he looks, I can’t think of that!_

With a soft growl, Malfoy woke up. “The elves cook faster,” He mumbled.

“As if you knew how long I cooked, you were fast asleep before I had finished stirring the batter. I let you sleep because I assume Paw didn’t let you sleep last night.” Harry placed the plate with the first decorated pancake in front of Malfoy.

The blond took a bite, and a delighted look crossed his face for a moment, just to be replaced with a poker face immediately. “Your Muggle cooking isn’t half bad.” 

“You should taste my Aloo Gobi or my Dhal.”

“Those are big words, Potter, are you sure they’re half as good as at the next Muggle takeaway?” 

“You bet your sweet magic it’s better.” Before he knew Malfoy and he were riling each other up again over the pancakes. Although Harry couldn’t really concentrate on the food. Merlin, what was wrong with him, that he got aroused by Malfoy’s bitching at him? 


	8. Playing Cat and Cat 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A big thank you to @isobelwrites for advice on the description of the dressrobes, because my fashion sense is practically nonexistent. Akasha Gupta is a fictional designer because I didn't want to wizardise a real person._

In the following weeks, they fell into a routine in each other’s life. In the mornings, just after getting dressed, Draco and Pawter would floo to 12 Grimmauld Place. Every other day, Dempy would Apparate in with an impressive breakfast, and the day it wasn’t breakfast it would be dinner. They would bicker over their breakfast, but instead of annoying each other, it would feel rather – nice, to be honest, very nice, Draco mused.

After an hour, and sometimes a discreetly cast Flaccidus on Draco’s part, he would go back to the Manor, leaving Pawter with Meow, not one minute before politeness dictated that he ought to leave, as Potter had to go to his clients and refurnish their houses.

Draco had been surprised to find out that Potter worked as an interior designer, but on the other hand, his house looked very tasteful, even though the sofa might suit his taste better in maroon, but upon the mention of it, Potter had explained that Meow had a strong disliking for maroon.

Draco was impressed at how much Potter noticed Meow’s likes and dislikes and adapted to them. He had always thought Potter was someone who expected others to adapt to him. But indeed, Potter seemed to be rather someone who had to be reminded to consider his own needs and wishes, too.

Draco learned that the day he and Potter ran into each other one lunch break in front of Twilfit and Tattings. Potter needed a new set of dressrobes for a charity fundraiser. Being the curious wizard he was, Draco followed Potter inside. Potter wanted to take the least expensive robes, even though the fabric was itching him obviously and he kept on pulling it away from his body in an uncomfortable manner.

“Potter,” Draco said, “this cheap wool you want to buy will only make you feel and look as if you had the hippogriff pox. And it would look better on a fucking scarecrow than on you. The colour is like that of support stockings. I presume you have the Potter vault and the Black vault. And you earn money every time you refurnish someone’s house. Why again do you think you can’t afford to buy dressrobes that look good and are comfortable?”

“I’m not good at buying things for myself, and most especially clothes. My school robes were the first things I owned that were not hand-me-downs from my cousin.” He muttered in a low voice. Everything in Potter’s voice and tense pose revealed that it was difficult for him to speak about it.

“Potter, you defeated Voldemort, you are there for all your friends, don’t think that I haven’t heard of that. So, you fucking deserve to wear something comfortable and gorgeous. Wait for one moment. Oh, and take that hideous rag off already. I don’t want to see such a thing near you again.” Draco was surprised at his own reaction, no matter that he sometimes wanked to the thought of Potter in Quidditch clothes or jeans that hugged his arse perfectly, he never would have thought that he would get emotionally involved in what Potter was wearing to a charity gala.

He asked the shop assistant if they had any clothes designed by Akasha Gupta. Draco loved Akasha Gupta robes, but they weren’t suitable for his pale skin, while they just seemed to be made for Potter. Akasha Gupta combined modern British robe cuts with the rich colours and fabrics of Indian clothes.

The assistant, Marvin, showed him two different outfits, a combination in blue and burnt sienna that reminded a bit of a kingfisher, and on the other hand, something Draco craved to see Potter in. It was the more daring outfit, but Draco felt like he would beg to see Potter wearing this. Of course, he questioned his sanity at the same time. What was it to him what Potter would be wearing to the gala?

He pushed the outfit into Potter’s outstretched palm from the closed dressing cabin and waited.

“Do you really think I can wear this?” Potter asked.

“I think so, but I’ll only know for sure if you try it on.”

A short time later, Potter slowly opened the curtain. He was clad in velvet trousers in a dark purple, a berry-coloured silk shirt with intricate details of gold and silver embroidery on the collar, a waistcoat that was the same rich purple as the trousers, the front of the waistcoat was lined in velvet and the back in soft adorning silk. It looked perfect with his skin tone, and the trousers hugged his arse perfectly, so perfectly, the discreetly cast Flaccidus failed Draco.

“Oh, Merlin and Morgana, this is perfect for you,” the mirror in the corner exclaimed, and Draco felt a pang of jealousy. He should be the one to praise Potter’s looks. _Have I lost my mind? I get jealous of a fucking mirror. Fucking mirror my arse, the mirror can’t fuck, it can’t even have a good wank or a bad one. Bloody hell, Draco get your mind out of the gutter!_

Draco took an effort to sound unmoved by the beauty of Potter. “Your search should be over if that can’t make you look good at the gala, nothing can,” he drawled.

“It’s – it’s comfortable! How can dressrobes be comfortable?” Potter mumbled to himself as he peered into the mirror.

“Good designer dressrobes do that, Potter, not that you would know. The designers weave in a charm to make them as comfortable as jogger bottoms while making you look your best.” _Pull yourself together, Draco, no, it’s not cute that he marvels at it like that. You should think it’s daft. Okay it is cute, but don’t you dare show it!_ “Put on the robe, so we can finish.”

Potter put on the robe, and Draco had to concentrate on not showing how he felt about this beauty in front of himself. “If you don’t buy exactly this, you’re daft,” he drawled, then added as an afterthought: “If I still want to eat this lunch break, I have to run, I’ll already have to eat something less appealing than what I meant to buy in order not to spoil the current batch. See you. Oh, and you shouldn’t wear boxers under these, the best thing to wear underneath them is lace.”

Hurrying off to the Apparition point, the last thing he heard from Potter was an exclamation of “Merlin and Morgana! What the fuck?” Only then, it occurred to him what he had said, and embarrassment pounced on him like a wild animal.

He didn’t brew that afternoon, instead, he cast cleaning charms on every surface until a throng of five worried elves followed him asking if he was going to fire them.

“No, I would never, unless you wish to work somewhere else, you are free elves. I just needed to do something less risky than brewing,” he reassured them.

“Mr. Draco Malfoy could be going to Mr. Harry Potter,” Dempy suggested with a shy smile.

“Firstly, he’s working somewhere, and secondly, I said something utterly embarrassing, Dempy.” After mumbling these words, Draco asked the elves for help, and together they continued with housework.

  
After some time, the Floo chimed. It was Potter. “Malfoy, are you still brewing? Dinner is ready. I made Aloo Gobi. And Paw is waiting for you already.”

“Mr. Draco Malfoy should be going to Mr. Harry Potter. Dempy has everything under control here.” Dempy beckoned Draco to the Floo with a stern face.

Draco hesitated, and Dempy whispered in his ear: “Mr. Draco Malfoy should be doing what he is doing when he has been saying something embarrassing to Ms. Pansy Parkinson. Pretend nothing happened until someone brings it up.”

Dempy pressed the bowl with the Floo powder into his hand and gently nudged him towards the direction. Finally, he flooed over to Grimmauld Place.

Dinner was as every evening -- with the exception of Friday, Potter’s pub night and Saturday’s dedicated to the ex-Slytherins’ get-together -- where Draco and Potter would eat together, then sit on the sofa in the TV room to watch a movie or a quiz show or take turns reading for each other. To Draco’s amazement, they had the same taste in movies and books, and loved to make every quiz show a competition of who would come up with the most hilarious wrong answers. It all would have been most pleasant, if only Draco were still able to cast a successful Flaccidus. Only when it was time for bed, did Draco floo home with Pawter, just like almost every evening. 

Before turning in for the night, Draco took his compendium of wizards’ health magic and looked up what he did wrong with his spellwork.

  


> Flaccidus can’t work indefinitely. If you need to resort to it constantly, we recommend you ask yourself whether you can’t indulge safely instead. The spell fails after frequent use for your own good. We suggest a little extra activity during your daily ablutions, if you can’t obtain your love interests’s favour.

“I’m fucked, I’m so fucked.” Draco exclaimed. 

“Mr. Draco Malfoy is not. And that is being the problem,” Dempy deadpanned.


	9. Feeling Like Something the Cat Brought In

After bringing Pawter to Potter and having breakfast with the Golden Boy, Draco collapsed on his sofa with a sigh. He felt exhausted and fed up with having to pretend everything was alright. But he couldn’t bother other people like that, most of all not Potter. All those things were his own problems. Not that there was nobody he could talk about it to, Pansy and Blaise had heard enough of it already and Luna would just advise him to find a better place to live, but he had to stay in the Manor, what about his family legacy, what about saving his family’s reputation?

He couldn’t even pretend to do any brewing today so instead, he made an inventory of his ingredients, cleaned and sterilized all his empty jars, bought any ingredients that he was short on stock, more so than needed, as it exceeded his monthly ingredients budget, but most of all, he had stared at imaginary points in his lab over the last week wondering if all he was doing was actually pointless. He rearranged all the ingredients of Pepperup Potion, the easiest potion he was selling. And the one that would run out first, then sat down, covered himself with a cozy warm blanket and finally laid down to have a break. His mind was spiraling.

***

Harry stared at his clock. QI had almost begun, and Malfoy was still not around. This was not normal, and this was unlike that day when they had bought the dressrobes together, when Harry had thought Draco felt embarrassed by his own words. No, this time, nothing special had happened, and they had bantered about their favourite Quidditch teams in the morning.

He contemplated over their conversations from the last three days, whether anything he had said or did might have been interpreted as offending, but he couldn’t find anything, yet if anything might have made Malfoy feel uncomfortable, Harry knew he would apologize in an instant.

The more time passed the more Harry felt worried. What if something terrible had happened? Before he thought about it, he threw Floo powder into the chimney and shouted Malfoy Manor. Dempy answered the Floo twisting the sleeve of her matronly dress in her hand.

“Mr. Harry Potter, thank goodness, you is being calling. Mr. Draco Malfoy is needing Mr. Harry Potter, but he is being forbidding Dempy or the other elves to call Mr. Harry Potter. He is being in his lab and crying.”

Anxiety curled at the pit of his stomach as Harry stepped through the Floo, and asked Dempy to lead him to the lab. He was momentarily shocked at the state Malfoy Manor was in, despite the clean polished walls and light ornamental furniture. The walls exuded the stench of dark magic, like a staleness that was imprinted in the fabric of the home, that it wouldn’t leave no matter how much one opened the windows and sprayed fungicide on the mold stains.

“Merlin and Morgana! How does he live here? This building is even in a worse state of contamination than Grimmauld Place was during the war. Despite all the efforts he takes to keep it neat, it could still kill him!” Harry muttered under his breath.

Dempy stopped in her tracks. “Mr. Draco Malfoy ought to leave this house for two years and have it decontaminated, but he can’t afford the rent of an apartment and the decontamination bills, but only one of them.”

Harry put his hand on Dempy’s shoulder. “Let me guess, he’s too proud to ask a friend to let him stay with them for the time it takes?”

“Mr. Harry Potter is knowing Mr. Draco Malfoy very well.” Dempy looked into Harry’s eyes in a mixture of hope and worry. Harry gently squeezed the elf’s shoulder in a reassuring manner.

“Dempy, leave that to me. Let me think of something, I promise, I’ll come up with an idea.” He whispered, before they continued their way to the lab.

“This house is being affecting even house elves. Mr. Draco Malfoy is not being supposed to live here, he is being supposed to have the house decontaminated.” Resignation sounded from Dempy’s voice.

“What’s Ms. Parkinson’s opinion on him living here? I can’t imagine that she wants him to live here.” Harry needed allies to get Malfoy out of here, even if they were one Pansy Parkinson.

“She is being asking him to move in with a friend, but she can’t be offering him a room in her apartment, she is having only one room. And she is wanting to have overnight guests who are being actually interested in mating with her.” Dempy said shyly.

“Dempy, please, pack things for him and also for you elves, how many of you are there by the way?” Harry had to be more stubborn than Malfoy, this dark magic in the walls of the Manor could kill someone he mused. It was the kind of decontamination site that could only be worked with charms working from the outside, if it could be decontaminated at all.

“There’s eight of us, five working elves, two small children and Grandad Yoffy.”

“There’s enough room for you all at Grimmauld Place, I inherited it from Sirius Black, so you have a family connection with the place. It should be easy for you to interact with the magic, as Narcissa Malfoy is from the House of Black.” At his words, Harry saw a flash of relief cross the elf’s face.

He remembered the decontamination of Grimmauld Place. It had taken two long years to decontaminate, during which he had lived first at the Burrow, until he had lost his patience with Molly trying to get Ginny and him back together. Then, he had moved to Dean and Seamus’ uncomfortable sofa, and then for over a year, Luna had persuaded her father to rent a room to him. Xeno had proved to be a bit too eccentric for Harry’s liking but until Ginny had told her mother that she would never get together with a man again, that she just didn’t fancy men at all, he had managed. Finally, Harry had been able to move back to the Burrow, when Arthur had convinced her that their way of getting a son-in-law was not recruiting Harry for the position but Harry’s future boyfriend. It had helped that all Weasley siblings, even Percy, told her that they saw Harry as a brother.

Dempy beckoned to a door now. Harry knocked and called out: “Malfoy, please, let me in. Paw is missing you, fuck it, I’m missing you, too. It’s more fun to watch QI with you.”

There was a moment of hesitation until a voice spoke from behind the door. 

“You’re kidding me, aren’t you? The Boy Who Lived Twice can’t miss a vile Deatheater. Piss off, Potter.” Malfoy’s voice sounded weak and sardonic.

“Malfoy, stop it. You aren’t a Deatheater.” Harry felt torn and desperate.

“The Dark Mark on my arm says I’m one.” But the door opened anyway. Harry was shocked when he saw Malfoy, his usually so beautiful hair looked lackluster, and the dark shadows under his eyes were worse than in sixth year. Why in Merlin’s name had Harry not seen that in the morning?

“You were underage and forced to take that mark. And the good things you did voluntarily ever since the day you told Bellatrix you can’t be sure it was me, override the mark you were forced to take. I can very well remember the day you made it look like a fight but actually pushed your wand into my hand. You took great efforts and risks to do the good things you did. And I know who you are today, you make sure lycanthropy patients get affordable Wolfsbane potion, you donated half your fortune to the cause for house-elves, and you think I don’t know the anonymous author of ‘Facts on Selwyn’s curse that may be helpful for healing it’ is you? You saved the life and health of hundreds of Muggleborns by enabling Hermione to develop a remedy. Malfoy please, I’d feel honoured if you stayed at Grimmauld place for the time of the decontamination”

“I don’t need mercy. Leave me alone. Paw has it good with you.”

Draco’s comment showed Harry in what a bad state Malfoy really was. If he were to stay here for but one more night, Malfoy would die.

“That’s enough, Malfoy. Firstly, Paw needs you. You’re his human, he might lose hope if you abandon him because you won’t get help. Secondly, I’m being selfish about watching QI with you.” He tried to focus his magic at Malfoy, to strengthen and support him against the dark residue draining life.

“Watch it with Granger or Weasley, they’ve always been your friends.” Malfoy’s magic pushed back in order to keep him out.

“Malfoy, that’s enough, are you coming with me, or should I firecall Parkinson. I don’t think she’ll take such nonsense from you. And if I’m at it, I guess, Andromeda would also have something to tell you about this.” With a heaving exhale, his magic broke down the wall Malfoy had formed around himself, but to his shock he now felt a drain on his own core strength.

“Who are you and what have you done to Potter? Your behaviour is far too Slytherin.” Malfoy exclaimed softly as his magic tried to push Harry’s out.

“The hat wanted to put me in Slytherin, but I wanted to be somewhere else.”

“Because I had insulted Weasley?” Malfoys voice sounded vulnerable.

“And Hagrid, but you apologized to both when you were no longer under your father’s thumb. And the kind of Slytherin you are today I wouldn't mind sharing a House with.” Harry tried to form a block against the drain, using his own and an accessible part of Malfoy’s magic, he didn’t even know how he was able to do that.

“I’m glad you weren’t a Slytherin when Voldemort was in power, as a Gryffindor you were a lot safer than you would have been. Not that you were safe. But how can you think I deserve all those chances you give me?”

The pull from the drain got stronger, Harry felt that he ran out of time. “Let’s discuss this later. You need to get out of here post-haste, or I’ll call Parkinson.”

“But –“ Malfoy lifted himself to a sitting position, but immediately lay back. “I can’t get up. I feel so exhausted.”

Harry rushed forward. “Sorry, Malfoy, seems I have to carry you.” He gently picked Malfoy up bridal style. “Dempy, can you help us Apparate out?”

With a crack that sounded a bit different from human apparition sounds Harry found himself and Malfoy on the doorsteps of Grimmauld Place. The door opened at his Alohomora, and he carried Malfoy directly into his living room. Only now did he notice the rest of the house-elves with bags of luggage that had followed him inside. Dempy levitated both of them on the sofa that another elf had changed to its bed function. “You both is having to have a lie-down. Voldyturd’s magic is being the most fucked up magic Dempy has ever seen.”

Harry laughed quietly despite himself and the weakness he felt. Voldyturd! He had never heard a house-elf swear before. He lay for a short moment before he gathered all his strength and conjured his Patronus. “Please, call Hermione to come here. It’s urgent. Magic drain due to dark residues in a house. Two cases.” He called weakly. 

The last thing he perceived before succumbing to sleep was that the cats sat down in the space between him and Malfoy and purred as loud as they could.


	10. Chapter 10

When Draco woke up, he found Granger was performing scans with her wand on him unaware of him having woken up. “Harry,” she said. “You saved his life, but you took quite a blow to your magic for it, nothing permanent, but you’d better cancel your appointments for a week. That’s how long it will take until you will be able to cast spells again without him being in the same room.”

“Did I bond myself to Draco?” Harry replied. 

_Draco, huh, that’s interesting, since when does Potter use my first name. I don’t want to like the way it sounds, but I sort of do._

“Technically yes, but it’s a bond used by mediwix to stabilize emergency patients, usually with a close relative as the giver. It’s the magical equivalent of when Muggles donate blood. Only we don’t need blood donations but magic donations. Both your magics take a week to replenish, during which you may spend as much time apart as you want, but it’s not advisable to cast any spells of any kind then. Harry, if you are around Malfoy, you can cast whatever spells you like for this week, but he can’t cast at all for the first two days, then for three days he has to limit it to first year level spells, even in your presence. It doesn’t do anything with your minds or your affinities for each other, it just helps Malfoy replenish his magic.” Granger lectured. “Although, it’s unusual for people who are not relatives or lovers to form a magic replenishing bond without knowing such a thing even exists. That usually requires a medical training or a pre-existing bond of any kind. Hmmm, perhaps the reason it happened between you both is that you defeated Voldemort with his wand… I’ll have to do some research on it. But if you know nothing about it, this is risky. You could have ended up a Squib if you hadn’t taken him away from Malfoy Manor immediately.”

“Even if it had taken my magic permanently, I’d regret nothing. In these last two months, since our cats have started demanding playdates, we have become friends, I think. At least I have come to enjoy having meals with him and watching tv together.” Draco felt surprised to hear such words from Potter, because he had actually also enjoyed being at Grimmauld Place with Potter, and not only because it wasn’t the Manor. But it couldn’t be that it meant the same to Potter as it meant to him; Potter was the hero who could have anyone he wanted. Why would he choose a man who had the Dark Mark and was in general a curmudgeon if he could have someone like Corey Newton from Pudd U or Neville Longbottom, who was a hero too, and openly pansexual, or maybe Terry Boot, who had become a famous actor? They were on the list of sexiest wizards alive. Although for Draco that list held only one name: Harry James Potter.

He couldn’t keep still and eavesdrop any longer, his arm was falling asleep. With careful movements he stirred.

“Malfoy, I’m glad you’re coming to. You literally got out at the last second. If Harry hadn’t come to fetch you, you would have been dead by now. Why did you even stay at the Manor as contaminated as it is?” Granger sounded so much like Pansy when she gave someone a stern talk.

“I have nowhere else to go.” Draco mumbled in a low voice.

“Nonsense. You’ll stay here and either have the Manor decontaminated or forget it exists at all.” Potter said sternly.

“But I can’t…”

“Want me to move to the Manor with you?” Potter looked him in the eyes.

“NO! You’d die.” Draco was shocked.

“Then don’t go back there before Bill declares it safe.” Potter replied.

“Cousin Draco!” Draco turned to the direction the voice came from. It was a double portrait of Professor Lupin and Sirius Black.

“Cousin Sirius,” Draco said tentatively.

“I was the last magical Black by name. And Harry is my heir. In past times before Cantankerous Nott and his toxic ideas, Harry’s name would have been Potter-Black from then on and he would have been the head of the House of Black and passed the name Black on to one of his heirs and Potter to the other one. Only that our ancestors were the first to be so stupid and follow the ideas of Cantankerous Nott, even before the Nott family themselves. What I want to say is: This is your home too if Harry says so. And you heard him say that you can stay here. I’ve stayed out of your sight so far, but I have watched you. And I agree with Harry that you are worthy of his friendship. Welcome to your maternal family home Draco.” He took a deep breath. “And now stop being stubborn, I hate talking like a fucking Pureblood patriarch. I only did so because Remus promised to ri…”

“Sirius, sorry, but what sexual favours Remus promised you is too much information.” Harry interrupted him.

In reply, Sirius mumbled something that sounded a lot like “It’s about time you got laid, Prongslet. Can’t have you being prudish forever.”

  
After Hermione had instructed Draco about the rules he had to obey in order to get well soon and Flooed out, Dempy made them a calming lavender chamomile tea and coaxed Draco to eat the dinner that Harry had left under a stasis charm when Draco hadn’t showed up. Meanwhile it was morning, but Hermione had said that the spices of the Dhal would be very helpful to make him sweat out some of the toxins from the residue. Potter sat beside him and watched him with an odd smile, while drinking his awfully sweetened coffee and eating a croissant with marmalade.

Once Draco put down the spoon after the last bite, Potter looked to him with a pensive look. “You can stay here as long as you want to, but we have to discuss the house rules.”

“House rules – I knew you wouldn’t take me in completely for free.” Draco drawled.

“Actually, there are only a few rules, and most of them are about communication and one is about where you can brew next week. My first rule is you’ll stop calling me by my last name. I believe flatmates should be on first name terms.”

“If only your parents hadn’t given you such an asinine name.” Draco snarked. He couldn’t let on that he, in fact, loved the name Harry, but only tended to say it when he was indulging in some clandestine activities in his bed.

“You may also call me Prongs junior, darling, or if you are a bit kinky, sir.” Harry winked.

“Okay, okay, Harry is alright.” Draco conceded with a blush.

In the background he heard Sirius bark a laugh and Professor Lupin say “like father like son” with a grin in his voice.

“Don’t get the idea of calling me honey or any other pet name. That is strictly reserved to significant others, which I don’t have.” There had been men who would have shagged him, but only if they had been sure nobody would ever know. And being someone’s insignificant other was something Draco was too proud for in most cases; maybe he would accept it if Potter propositioned him, but why would Potter; after all the Golden Boy could have virtually anyone.

“Rule number two. Distribution of rooms. We’ll come to that when you are back on your feet, but your elves get proper rooms here, too. We have enough guest rooms to give every elf a proper bed.”

“Thank Merlin! It took me two years to make them understand that they deserve rooms and proper beds.” Draco sighed with relief.

“Rule number three. Potions are to be brewed only in the Lab. I’ll vanish any potion brewing utensils I find in the kitchen.” Draco had never seen Po… Harry look so stern.

“Who would be so foolish as to brew in a kitchen? It might influence the potion or the food.” Draco drawled.

“You’d be surprised about some people’s affinities to creating prank food. And even though I count them among my best friends, I’d rather not give them a chance to trick me into being their guinea pig ever again.” Harry smirked.

“Do you mean the Wheezes Weasel?” Draco lifted an eyebrow.

“Let this be the last time I hear such a thing.” An exasperated look appeared on Harry’s face, making Draco flinch. “Here we come to Rule number four, actually the most important rule of all. In this house, we respect each other’s friends. I won’t insult your friends, and I expect you not to insult mine. Name-calling will only be tolerated as part of a consensual friendly banter, and definitely not behind the person’s back.”

“But they call me Ferret!” Draco whined.

“I promise that if they insult you in my house, I will tell them to leave and come back only when they have learned to respect my flatmate. And anyway, how long ago was the last time you’ve had contact with anybody from the Weasley family?”

Draco looked at the floor. “Three years.”

“You have changed since Hogwarts, and so have the Weasleys. And no matter if it’s you disrespecting them or they disrespecting you, I have zero tolerance for disrespect. The same rule is just as strict for them. Rule number five: We divide up the housework equally between all the people living here.”

  
Unlike what Draco had expected, the house rules were quite what he would have set as rules if it had been in his own house – with the one difference of equally dividing up housework. At home, he would do a sixth of the work and the other five sixths were done by the house-elves, but only if there were no guests around, because the elves wouldn’t let him once there were guests. But then, they were not in their employer’s house now.

Harry went to the bathroom, and Draco watched the cats grooming each other on the side of the bed-sofa where Harry had been before. Pawter was sprawled on his back, and Meow was licking the black cat’s belly and purring loudly. Draco wondered if this intimacy between these two exceeded the normal sibling-like relationship. He knew that kneazles mated for life, and that gay kneazles weren’t unusual. Pawter and Meow both had kneazle ancestors.

The sounds of steps on the stairs attracted Draco’s attention. Harry’s bare feet appeared in Draco’s line of view, then a large white towel slung low around Harry’s hips, a belly that Draco wanted to lick just like he had seen Meow lick Pawter’s belly. Perfect brown skin, with a stripe of dark hair leading from the navel down and disappearing under the towel. Draco quickly changed his sitting position and pulled the duvet up. He couldn’t let Harry see his asinine physical response. How could Harry not regret inviting him here if he got a boner just from Harry coming down the stairs barefoot and shirtless?

“Draco, sorry, but could you hold my mirror, please. I can only do my shaving charms around you. Thank Merlin, they vanish the hair immediately, my uncle always used to leave the hair in the sink, and I had to clean it.”

“And your Muggle uncle didn’t teach you to shave the Muggle way?” Draco raised an eyebrow, as he reached for the mirror.

Harry sat down, cast the shaving charms, and then said calmly, “The only thing my uncle taught me was when to run away from him and when to pretend I didn’t exist. It was Sirius who started teaching me, when it was actually still a bit early, and then Arthur Weasley continued when I really had enough facial hair to need to shave.”

“I’m – I’m sorry that I always used to assume your Muggle relatives would treat you like a prince.” Draco awkwardly put his hand on Harry’s shoulder as Harry pulled him into a hug.

Draco wanted to melt into it, but instead, he pulled away. It seemed the safer option.


	11. OMG, they were catmates 2

Friday had come, and Harry had agreed with his friends as well as Draco’s friends that this week instead of pub nights, both friend groups would have a little potluck get-together at Grimmauld Place. The first to arrive were Hermione and Ron. Harry noticed that Draco tensed when Ron greeted him. He excused himself for a moment and brought a wizarding chess set from Regulus’ room. “Draco, you told me yesterday I’m pants at chess, Ron’s the best chess player I know. Maybe you guys could play a game until the others show up.”

Draco glared at him but reluctantly agreed. Hermione and Harry moved to the kitchen to warm up the quiche Ron had baked. They had agreed that Ron would bake something salty, as Goyle was going to bring sweet baked goods. The Slytherin had opened a bakery that was one of the two things helping him overcome the stigma from his parents’ actions, the other one being his engagement to a nonbinary Muggleborn. But his spouse-to-be would not be around today, they were on a business trip to Portugal.

“So, how is living with Draco,” Hermione asked immediately after they had closed the kitchen door.

“He sometimes tries to play the big bad prat, but in reality, he’s changed for the better, he’s left his prejudices behind, and now he is almost as fascinated by Muggle things as Arthur, but more competent at using them. Just the delusions about rubber ducks seem to be a universal thing. He actually told me my decorative rubber duck in the bathroom was not functioning and that it was supposed to be a sex toy.” Harry remembered with a chuckle of Draco’s bout of shock about the open display of a rubber duck on the downstairs bathroom shelf and the annoyance at it not even vibrating. They had talked about it only yesterday, but Draco had told him that it had exasperated him since the first playdate.

“Well, there are rubber duck vibrators, seems like he mistook a coincidence of properties for an essential feature.” Hermione grinned.

“Since when are you an expert on Muggle sex toys?” Before Harry had finished the sentence, he cringed. Hermione had been the one to give him the talk, and while they all were sex positive; he didn’t really want too many details about Ron and her sex life.

“You know, Ron and I don’t want every experiment we get up to commented by George. Especially considering if he might interpret it as a marriage crisis and alert Molly.” Hermione tugged at her bracelet, as she would sometimes do when she was feeling nervous.

“Nah, he wouldn’t alert Molly because you want to experiment with threesomes. Last year they forgot to block their Floo, and I firecalled while Angelina and George were making out with Leroy from Eeylops. But the idea that one’s brother or brother-in-law knows too well what goes on in your bedroom is still cringy.” Harry placed the quiche in the oven and made tea.

“But how are you managing emotionally now that Draco is here around the clock?” Hermione returned to the original topic.

“A lot of it is pretty nice actually. We like the same music and his comments turn a stupid movie into comedic gold. The house smells of his cologne, and we planned to try out things we missed in our fucked-up childhoods.” Harry grinned thinking of the list he had taken from the fridge and hidden in the drawer lest Parkinson or Zabini find it. 

“As long as you don’t take drugs…” Hermione put on her parental look. _Fuck! Draco is right, Hermione and Ron have parented me throughout our Hogwarts years._

“Nah, it’s things such as blanket forts, roller coaster rides and gliding charms. They must be something like roller skates but with magic. And bouncy castles. Draco said that I should learn to use gliding charms before Teddy’s birthday, as he wants us to go gliding with him. I don’t know, I wish it wasn’t too embarrassing to put pillow fights and tickling each other on the list.” Harry felt his face heat up when he thought of touching Draco’s milky skin just for the fun of it. And if he was honest with himself, there was something less silly than tickling he wanted to do.

“Harry, you may want to tickle him, but I think you want _a lot_ more,” Hermione exclaimed in a gentle voice. Harry wondered, not for the first time if Hermione was a discreet legilimens. No, she seemed to be just the best at that subtle legilimency everyone but him seemed to have mastered. When had they been taken aside and taught it?

“Er, I may or may not sometimes fantasise about him and me, you know, shagging?” Harry ruffled his hair.

“Harry! Are you ashamed of fancying him? You said yourself that he is so much better than he used to be. There’s no need to be ashamed of him.” Hermione stilled his hand and cast a grooming charm on Harry’s hair.

“I know he has become a good man, but why would he fancy me? He’s not impressed by the hero myths around me, and nobody has ever wanted just plain simple Harry.” Harry’s voice got small and high pitched.

Just as Hermione was about to reply, the Floo chimed and Pansy Parkinson stepped through. She and Hermione seemed to freeze in place upon recognition. For a quick moment, they scanned one another from head to toe before politely greeting each other.

“Welcome, Parkinson. How are you?” Harry greeted.

“I’m fine, but if you don’t mind, you know, Draco is my best friend and it feels awkward if his flatmate is on last name terms with me. Also, thank you for finally getting him out of the Manor.” Parkinson’s voice sounded weak as if she were summoning all her courage to make conversation. That was probably the case, as they hadn’t had much contact after her letter of apology in their eighth year.

“Can’t have my friends stay in such a horrible place.” Harry tried to make it short.

When they stepped into the sitting room after redirecting all Floo interactions to the sitting room fireplace, Draco and Ron were engrossed in a chess game, and Ron had a pleased smile on his face. “Hey, Harry, finally someone who is a challenge on the chess board.”

The evening was a success; it seemed as if everyone was as happy to tear down House borders as Harry and Draco were. At 1 am, after Dean and Seamus had left, only Hermione, Ron and Pansy were still around. They were all sitting on the three-seated sofa and talking too quietly for Harry and Draco to hear, although Harry noticed Pansy’s hand landed on Hermione’s knee whenever she stopped gesticulating.

“What about their kid?” Draco asked in thought.

“Rose is staying at her grandparents’ house tonight.” Harry explained.

As Ron, Hermione and Pansy were ready to Floo home, Harry noticed that the Floo Powder was spilt on the rug, and mixed with rug cleaning charms. It would not be safe for Flooing.

“Fuck! And we don’t have a Portkey to get home with.”

“I can’t let you Apparate out, at this time of the night, you’d splinch yourselves,” Harry declared. You all can sleep here tonight. One guestroom is free, and I’ll prepare my own bed for Pansy and sleep on the sofa.” Harry quickly responded.

“Harry, could you please cast a strengthening charm on the bed and a silencing charm on our room; I think we shouldn’t have taken so much of the Love pastries,“ Hermione said under her breath.

“No problem. Have fun.” _Wish I could have fun once in a while too, and not just alone with toys._

  
As Harry came from the bathroom after brushing his teeth, his blanket and pillow were gone. Instead, Draco was sitting on the sofa.

“Come on, Harry, you’ll share the bed with me tonight. I put a board in the middle, so we won’t disturb each other. I can’t have you suffer from backache while you accommodate my elves, my best friend and me. Also, remember, the cats sleep on the sofa.” Draco said with a smile.

_What if I talk in my sleep? What if I have a wet dream? Fucking hell, I can’t…_ ”Okay,” his mouth said without asking his brain for permission.

_Okay._


	12. Soft Kitten Warm Kitten

If Pawter and Meowfoy could speak human languages, they would reveal things to you, dear reader. Of pops of elvish Apparition in the night, portraits asking for help to manage some mischief to help a pair of very oblivious wizards get their shit together and of bare human feet walking down a corridor they weren’t supposed to be in. All with good, albeit meddling intention. They would tell you of human eyes exchanging exasperated looks at their friends’ avoidance of physical contact even though a decent cat’s nose can smell how much both men crave that touch.

And finally, if they could, they would talk about their own exasperation. How could humans be such idiots? The cats had tried their very best, showed these clumsy two-legs how to show one’s mate affection, did they still have to show them how to mate? While they weren’t even sure how humans mate at all with their exchangeable fur covering the genitals.

Pawter and Meowfoy had a satisfying sex life with each other, but they would not stoop down to display their intercourse publicly. That was a doggish thing to do, and if someone had to teach Harry and Draco, Pawter and Meowfoy had no doubt, the dog-humans in the portrait would be less disinclined to instruct the grownup cubs.

  


***

Harry slowly drifted into a state closer to awakeness. He saw through his closed eyelids that the sun had risen already, he heard the birds sing outside the window, and he felt something firm and warm behind him and around his chest, something firm and warm that felt glorious. But it had to be a dream, it smelt like Draco, and Draco would never cuddle up and spoon him. Slowly the memory came back to him that he was sleeping in Draco’s bed because Pansy was sleeping in his bed, and the charm that conjured the board in the middle of the bed must have worn off.

Of course, Draco would not consciously spoon Harry and allow his morning wood to get in touch with Harry. I should carefully scoot forward and get up. _It’s inappropriate to enjoy this; he’s not consenting to it. If he were awake he would never allow his cock to get in touch with my body. But it feels so good, and it’s likely to be the only time in my life I’ll get to feel a man spooning me._

_It’s morally corrupt and all wrong, but if I can’t summon the moral strength to move out of the situation, maybe the next best thing is to pretend I’m still asleep and unaware of how we are lying here. He will wake up and move away, and I will have a memory to cherish for whenever I want to have a wank._

Forcing himself to breathe calmly and evenly, Harry gradually drifted back into a deep slumber.

  


***

Draco had often dreamt of sitting on a broom behind Harry. Most often, they were nightmares of the Fiendfyre, but sometimes they were just flying over the Forbidden Forest and gazing over centaurs and other forest creatures below.

But this dream was different, he felt Harry’s even, calm breath, his long, messy hair tickled Draco’s neck, and Draco inhaled Harry’s amortentia-like scent with every breath. And – that was the weirdest thing – Harry’s pert arse was pressed up against Draco’s erect cock.

_Harry’s arse is pressed up against my cock!_

 _Merlin’s pants! I can’t let him notice that!_ Carefully and slowly, Draco extracted his arm from around Harry’s chest, scooted back slowly, painstakingly trying to avoid pulling Harry’s hair, and got up. He snuck into the en-suite, cast a silencing charm, took off his silk pyjamas, stepped into the shower and rid himself of the inappropriate erection. Maybe he allowed himself to indulge a bit in the memory of Harry’s hair against his neck, and the feel of Harry’s nipples through the worn-thin cotton of his old Ramones t-shirt. But he did not scream “Harry” as he climaxed, at least he tried to convince himself afterwards that he had not done so. And there was nobody who could know better and call him a liar.

  
He padded downstairs, brewed a cup of Earl Grey tea and stared at the Wall.

“Draco, you don’t look like you had a good night?” Sirius sounded utterly shocked at the thought that a man could not have a good night. Did portraits lose their understanding of reality?

“My charm to make my bed appropriate for sharing with Harry wore off. And if he had noticed, it would have been creepy for him. Thank Merlin I was the first to get up. I was really a dick not to offer Pansy my bed and sleep on the sofa but make Harry share the bed with me too?. I’d better just find a different place to stay. Let the fucking Manor crumble and live where I don’t take advantage of Harry’s kindness.”

“Whoa, hold your hippogriffs, Draco. So, a charm wore off, and what, the bed got less soft? Or narrower? And you act as if you had wronged him? You slept merely four hours. I suggest that you rest on the sofa for now, and when Harry wakes up, you can find out if he feels weirded out by anything. And if he doesn’t, you can say that you narrowly escaped the bludger.” Sirius smiled in understanding at Draco.

“But – but I might do or say something creepy again. I’m not ready to lose Harry’s friendship because I…” He paused for a moment in contemplation and walked over to the portrait, leant closer and whispered “feel too much.”

“You do remember that Harry likes blokes? Because from the drama you make, it looks as if you assumed, he was scared to death of a bloke fancying him.” Sirius gave Draco a concerned look.

“Liking blokes is one thing, liking someone with a Dark Mark on his arm is another.” Draco felt tears stinging in his eyes. He willed himself to keep them at bay.

“Oh, Draco. Our Harry is very well aware that you didn’t ask for that mark, that he who splinched off his nose occupied your house and would have killed you had you said no.” Sirius touched the invisible border beyond which portraits could not reach, and Draco knew that if the Animagus could, he would squeeze Draco’s shoulder.

“Splinched off his nose? You mean, he didn’t lose it to a curse or because he became more snakelike?” Draco gave Sirius an incredulous look.

“Mad Eye Moody showed me the nose in the DMLE evidence room when I was in Auror training. He splinched it off close to the beginning of the first war, and there was evidence that he was drunk as a skunk.” Sirius gestured vividly.

For a moment, it felt liberating to laugh at Voldemort splinching off his nose. But then Draco thought again about how wrong it was to get arousal from an unaware sleeping Harry and fell back into despair.

  


***

A closing door somewhere woke Harry up. The familiar sound of footsteps on the stairs revealed to him that Draco was on his way downstairs. Harry went to the en-suite, considered having a wank, but decided that it would be highly inappropriate to wank in Draco’s personal rooms, and opted to take an icy shower instead. Then, he got dressed and headed out.

Passing by his room, he saw the door wide open and noticed with surprise that the bed looked untouched. He cast an indicating spell that showed him that nobody had slept there at all in the last night. “Pansy Parkinson, are you fucking kidding me?” he mumbled under his breath.

A door opened behind him, and he quickly spun around. _Speak of the devil…_ “You must be fucking kidding me.”

“A good morning to you, too, Harry. Are you alright?” Pansy gave him a concerned look.

“Did I say that out loud?” Harry ruffled his hair. “I just wish you had told me you weren’t planning to sleep in my room.”

“So, you and Draco didn’t shag? What a waste of a perfectly good night.” Pansy gave him a discerning look as if he was very slow on the uptake.

“I assume you, Hermione and Ron didn’t let the night go to waste, then?” Harry said sardonically.

Her face lit up. “Thanks for asking, I had never dared to hope I would have a chance with Hermione, and it was a nice surprise that Ron is the first cis man I have ever been in bed with who knows how to make a woman feel good. We decided to repeat the experience. But back to your problem.”

“Which wouldn’t be there in the first place if you had informed me that you weren’t planning to sleep in my room.” Harry snapped. “I took advantage of the fact that Draco was sleeping and couldn’t voice his lack of consent to cuddling.” He purposefully left out Draco’s morning wood.

“Harryyy, you are aware that Draco is my best friend.” Harry nodded, and Pansy continued. “I assure you, that if you were to ask him for cuddles, he would give his _enthusiastic_ consent.”

“But – but my hair always looks like a bird’s nest, and I have this ugly scar on my face and… he never liked the way I smell.” Harry loathed that his voice sounded so small, like that of a frightened child.

“Oh, Harry, Draco may have made Potter stinks badges in fourth year, but the truth is, in that same year, Marcus dropped a vial of Amortentia that he had stolen from Potions in the common room, and when Draco came in, he asked why the common room smelled like Potter. I didn’t tell you I wasn’t going to sleep in your room because I had hoped the two of you would finally get together after all these years of dancing around each other. Be a darling and tell him already that you fancy him.” She turned on her heels and walked back into the guestroom.


	13. Letting the Cat out of the Bag

Breakfast was an awkward affair. The elves’ efforts to make it festive changed nothing about that. Hermione, Ron and Pansy tried bravely to keep a conversation with Harry and Draco going, who both just kept pushing their food around on the plate and giving monosyllabic answers at best, staring into their tea cups as if they were suddenly interested in divination and just shooting each other furtive glances.

The tension between his best friend and the other stubborn git made Ron want to crawl out of his skin, douse them with Veritaserum and ask the right questions or simply grab them and shake them, yelling “fucking admit that you guys fancy each other!” At this point he would not mind seeing them shag on the breakfast table if only Harry stopped making himself unhappy. Not that he wanted to see Draco Malfoy’s ferrety pale cock, a decent cock would look at least a few shades darker, (Yes, Ron was very bisexual as another escapade Hermione and he had had recently with Lee Jordan had left no shadow of a doubt of) but if that paleness was Harry’s kink who was Ron to kinkshame.

“Harry, I thought of your list this morning, especially of the bouncy castles. The Burrow’s Quidditch meadow would be perfect for a few bouncy castles. Maybe one for the children and two for the grownups. I don’t think Ron or Pansy have ever been on a bouncy castle either. Would you mind if we join?” Hermione’s smug look as she spoke proved to Ron that she had a plan. He loved this look on her.

“Let’s make it four castles for the grownups, and two for the kids, you can be sure that Dad will call the whole family together. When we took Victoire to River Dart Country Park, she was on the bouncy castle there, and I asked the woman who was in charge of it a few questions. There’s a limit to how many people are on it at a time, and to be sure, I wouldn’t let more than three grownups on one. Also, when kids bounce, they should be similar in age.” Ron knew he had to make sure Harry and Draco were alone on one castle. Knowing Hermione, he was aware that her plan was to make sure they would really start with their list and have fun together instead of avoiding each other. Maybe the strategic use of a Wheeze or a charm could enrich the plan a little…

  
An hour later, they were inflating the transfigured bouncy castles, which benefited greatly from George’s mischief experience. Ron had discussed a bit with George and got the highest praise his brother was capable of: “Fred would be proud of you. All this mischief and for a good cause!”

  


**

Draco discussed the latest legislation on Animagus registration. He wondered if he were ever able to be allowed, he would like to be an Animagus. But why would they allow him?

Regardless, the matter still interested him.

A freckled hand appeared in his range of vision. “Mione, Draco, enough nerdy discussions! All work and no play are boggart attractors. The castles are ready! The last on the purple castle is a rotten dragon’s egg!”

Draco forced himself to start running, if he headed for the same castle as the Granger-Weasleys, he could avoid Harry.

When he stepped on the castle and the air around him glittered with an unknown charm, he knew they had pranked him. _Fucking Weasels._

As he tried to turn, the gate through which he had entered was gone. But there was another gate on the other side. Harry appeared in it, and just when Harry had passed through it, the wall closed behind him.

Harry turned around and yelled “I thought we were friends, George!”

Then Harry collapsed on the ground and curled up in a ball.

Merlin’s balls! What have I done to Harry that he reacts like this to being alone with me. I must do something.

“Harry, I’m so sorry. You gave me a place to stay, and then I…” Draco wanted to touch Harry’s shoulder but didn’t dare to.

“What are you talking about. I’m creepy. Like, stalker creepy.” A sob shook Harry’s back.

“I never felt offended by you following me. In sixth year I was forced to fight against you, and was afraid that someone might want me to kill you or take you to Voldemort. I wanted to make you avoid me, but I never considered you creepy, quite the opposite. But asking you to share the bed with me while ifancyyou… That was creepy of me.” Draco started loud but his voice got smaller and smaller until it was reduced to a mumble.

“To share the bed with you while..?” Harry asked ruffling his hair. 

_Oh, if only I could hold those hands and rub circles until he’s calm, but I have no right to do so._

“I - I woke up – and – the board - had disappeared – and you were – spooning – me with – morning wood. And I pretended – that – I was still – asleep. Because I fancy you.” Harry cried.

“Why?” Draco asked.

“You were spooning me. No man has ever spooned me.”

“No, why didn’t you tell me you fancied me?”

“Nobody ever fancied me back. Once they realised I’m not the great hero but a normal man and vulnerable at that, they hated me. You never believed I could be the great hero. Why would you love me then?” Harry’s hair may always look like a bird’s nest, but even after the Battle of Hogwarts it hadn’t looked as ruffled as at this moment. Harry’s eyes were wet and looked much bigger.

Draco finally crossed the distance and sat down beside Harry and took his hand into his.

“I saw the hero and I saw the awkward boy in his too big clothes and the boy who was happy to go on adventures with his friends, and Merlin was I pissed off that you didn’t want me to be among your friends! When I wanted you so much to be mine. I was a fucking idiot! I should have wanted to be yours. I wish I could be worthy of being yours. But I never was.”

“You were so beautiful, Draco. I was fascinated by you from that first moment at Madam Malkins, but then you called Hagrid an oaf and before the Sorting you insulted Ron. I couldn’t love your attitude at Hogwarts. But when I saw you with Paw, and in general, when I saw the man you had become, I was in love. I love you. You are worthy of love, Draco, but I’m not half what people make me out to be.” Harry moved his free hand towards his hair, but Draco caught it in midair.

“You’ve spent enough years having to be the hero. I love you when you’re strong and fierce, but I also love you if you want to be the little spoon.” Draco and Harry sort of melted into each other’s embrace.

“And you don’t have to worry if you are worthy of me. You always are. I love you.” Harry whispered in Draco’s ear, then kissed him hungrily.

Draco didn’t know who had started seeking friction, before he knew it, they were rutting against each other, groaning into each other’s mouths, then finally, they both came almost at the same time.

After regaining their breaths, Harry cast Scourgify on the both of them, and Draco noticed that one gate had reappeared.


	14. Smitten Kitten

That evening, Luna visited Mick. “Guess what: Harry and Draco finally made it. Our plot worked out.”

“They talked about their feelings? When they were here with their cats, I was sceptical about your pet project, but Nippy convinced me that there was sexual tension between them.” Mick grinned and took a sip from their wine.

“I don’t know if they talked, but George said there was quite a telltale smell on the bouncy castle they had been on. Cleaning charms don’t work so well with that Muggle plastic. He couldn’t see anything there, but the castle was smelling of sex.” Luna grinned at Mick and took a bite of her dirigible plum pie.

“It’s about time. Meow and Paw were quite exasperated last time I spoke to them.”

“Lucky you, it must be amazing to be a felismouth.” Luna’s eyes looked even dreamier than they would usually.

“And you are lucky to see Nargles and Wrackspurts. Not everyone has such good eyes. How is Ginny, by the way?” Mick remembered having a crush on Ginny in sixth year. That was long ago, before Astoria had won their heart.

Luna smiled warmly. “She’s preparing for a match. I’m looking forward to Sunday, after it. You know, after every match, we take some time just for ourselves.”

The fire crackled pleasantly in the fireplace as Luna and Mick spent the rest of their evening chatting about the plans of their weekend with rosy cheeks and glistening eyes. 

  


**

After a long weekend of making love, cuddling and talking, Harry was woken up by a persevering knocking at the window. He opened his eyes, put on his glasses, and summoned all his willpower to leave the comfortable place he was in, with Draco’s warm arms around him.

“Mmh, Harry, stay.” Draco mumbled.

He gently kissed Draco’s forehead. “I’ll be back in a moment, but that eagle owl out there will break the window if I don’t open it soon.” Harry exclaimed as he padded to the window.

“You better accio the owl treats. I’m not ready to wait for you to come back into my arms any longer than necessary.” Draco grumbled, wrapping the blanket back around himself.

“Git.”

“Your git.”

Harry opened the window, and the owl glided past him onto the bed. It lifted its leg, and Draco retrieved the letter. Harry gave it a treat, and it immediately flew off.

  


> My Draco,
> 
> How are you doing? How is Mr. Potter?
> 
> I’m glad that he is such a good friend and takes care of you.
> 
> Andie firecalled me today and asked if we could imagine getting married in Tonks cottage, because her healer said it’s not recommendable for her to travel with portkey for two years, because last time she travelled by portkey, she had an allergic reaction to the portkey charm. The desensitizing potion has to be taken for two years before it has healed the allergy.
> 
> And she is terrified of travelling by air kraft, who wouldn’t be? Flying where one can’t breathe properly and just protected by a metal box that is powered by fire?
> 
> When we have arranged for a celebrant for our wedding, I’ll make sure Mr. Potter gets an invitation, too. Do you think he would agree to come to my wedding, maybe even to sit at the head table with us?
> 
> Please, do ask him.
> 
> Take good care of yourself and be happy,
> 
> Yours,
> 
> Mother and Conrad

  
Draco read the letter, first silently, and then again, for Harry.

Harry pondered for a moment. “They should hold the wedding at Grimmauld Place. Tonks Cottage is narrow if five people are present. And only your mother, her husband-to-be, Andromeda, Teddy, the celebrant, you and I are seven people.” Harry didn’t like big occasions, but big occasions in narrow places were even harder to tolerate.

“They plan to celebrate with about 20 people,” Draco replied, as Harry lay back down. He pulled Harry closer and nuzzled Harry’s neck.

“That’s not that much, a Weasley Christmas is bigger. I can handle that. But I hope they don’t all want to stay overnight here.”

“Definitely not; Mother and Conrad will, but the others will Floo out as soon as Mother and Conrad have left the party.”

“We will have to prepare Sirius carefully for the news.” Harry sighed.

“For what news? You know, I can help, if it’s a good idea.” That was Remus, who sat in the middle of Dean’s picture ‘Black lake in summer,’ the golden sun glistening in his hair and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Er, Draco’s mother wants to marry your cousin, Conrad.” Harry started.

“I haven’t seen him in years, but if he is how he used to be and truly loves her, she deserves a chance. Also, she must have done something right for Draco to be a good man today despite his father. Count me in.” Remus replied warmly as he grinned at the two men.

“Harry, I think we must postpone the cuddling, and maybe have a nap at noon, but now I have a letter to write.” Draco climbed out of bed, and Harry followed his elegant and lithe body with his eyes, as he crossed the room and went into the en suite.

“You have exactly the smitten kitten look on your face that James had for Lily.” Remus’ voice sounded shaky, and when Harry looked at him, he spotted a happy tear in Remus’ eye.

Harry smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers, this fic is over now, but after a break due to fest fics and other things, I'm planning to return to Kitties Verse and write a sequel. Stay tuned; our boys and the kitties are still going to have some adventures.


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